


Unloveable Hands

by anxietyboats



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, F/M, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), fuck dumbledore, past wolfstar - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 00:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30013245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxietyboats/pseuds/anxietyboats
Summary: The Prisoner of Azkaban told through the wonderful eyes of Moony.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 1





	Unloveable Hands

Remus Lupin had spent the better part of 8 years trying to avoid the wizarding world. The smallest things would remind him of those he had lost, green sparks that reminded him of the bright eyes of Lily, ink on parchment that was almost as dark as James’ hair, magic just reminded him of the person he was trying his hardest to forget because that person was pure magic. Remus liked the muggle world, very rarely did it send him down a path of bad memories.

He will never forget the morning his peaceful muggle life had been ripped away from him and magic bled back into his daily routine. It was a normal London morning. Grey and dreary clouds rolled over the sky, teasing the city with the beginnings of rain. He had poured himself a cup of tea and sat down to light a cigarette. After a long drag, he fumbled around on the side table for the remote. Switching the TV on he saw a pair of eyes stare into his soul that he hadn’t seen in 12 years. Sirius Black was on his TV and his cold grey eyes stabbed him with pure magic. He was in such a state of shock that he did not process a word that came out of the reporter’s mouth.

Slowly pulling himself back to reality he tried to listen to what the reporter was saying. He picked up a few words like “armed” “dangerous” she was commenting on how he had escaped “a” prison. Deliberately not naming it because who could explain to muggles what “Azkaban” was. Sirius looked amess. His once perfect curls were matted and frizzy. He could only imagine what the Sirius he fell in love with would say when he saw the state of himself now. He smiled for a moment and that smile quickly faded.

The Sirius he fell in love with would be so utterly disgusted by the man on the screen. The Sirius he fell in love with defended muggle-borns, hated his family and naturally the Slytherins. These were two different men. Padfoot and Black. A bitter thought that he’d rather not think about. He laid his head back on the mustard-colored couch to stare at the ceiling as he took another drag. Smoke floating to the ceiling. His hair falling back he almost felt like a teenager again. He has memories that shouldn’t be touched of him doing the same thing his 7th year but with something a little stronger than a normal cigarette.

The memories of Hogwarts had grown fuzzy with age but the late nights and early mornings in the common room with Padfoot will forever remain crystal clear. As much as he wished he could make them fade. He tried to put all of them in a box in the back of his mind only to be opened on rare occasions, not unsimilar to the box at the back of his wardrobe that contained his wand, old textbooks, moving photographs, and robes from 15 years ago. Today was an occasion, to say the least. It left him feeling nostalgic for weed and magic. He’d been sober for 6 years now so he’s going to have to deal with some magic.

He took one last look at the TV and shut it off Black’s face fading into the darkness. He put out his cigarette on the ashtray on the end table and left his tea behind as he made his dark bedroom too tired to turn the light on and settled on using grey light spilling in from the window. He carefully made his way to the wardrobe. In the wardrobe under a pile of bits and bobs was the last bit of magic in his life. It was a medium-sized cardboard box with nothing special about it. It just has “do not open” written on it in case one of his old partners had managed their way into his wardrobe.

The last time “the box” had been opened was on James’ birthday the year prior. A fine layer of dust had grown. Every time he opened the box he found himself wanting to cry but unable to do so. He stared at the light brown box coated and dust and began to lightly sketch out a hippogriff. He was never much of an artist, but Padfoot on the other hand could, no he stopped the thought, ‘No more Padfoot memories today you saw what he became’.

He stopped procrastinating opening the box eventually. Though it took him longer than he'd like to admit. He slowly removed the top and he was instantly flooded with memories just by looking at a pile of old clothes, a stick, and an unopened photo album. He never noticed before but everything in the box was brown. His favorite color was purple, but he’s never been bold enough to wear it. The boldest he got was back in his Hogwarts days with a maroon jumper but since then his wardrobe had been particularly monochromatic.

He decided to thumb through the photo album. It was missing a few photos from when Hagrid wrote him asking for some for Harry. Oh god Harry, he hadn’t thought about Harry in a while. After a while, James and Lily stopped bringing tears to his eyes. Harry never failed to make him cry, he’d met Petunia and she was a cruel and unusual woman with a disdain for magic. He grew up in a complicated home but couldn’t imagine what growing up with her was like. Sometimes he prayed to a higher power he didn't believe in that she changed her ways.

The first photo that stuck out to him was one from his 6th year he kept it due to the close nature of him and Padfoot in it. It wasn’t particularly bad but he wanted to be safe. It was the marauders. Him, James, Peter, and of course Padfoot. They were sitting under their tree at the Great Lake. Remus had his arm around Padfoot and was leaning his head against his shoulder muttering something. He couldn't quite remember what it was. To Padfoot’s right were James and his inky mop and sparkling smile. To Remus’ left was Peter, he was shortest and his rosy cheeks and shy smile sent Remus back far too many years. Only half of the people in this photo were alive, and technically only one who made it out of the war. And he was hardly thriving.

He pushed through the rest of the album and had a good cry. It had been a few years since he had a good cry. There he was Remus Lupin on his knees sobbing like a child over photos. Merlin, he was in his 30’s he needed a better way of dealing with complicated emotions. He slowly began packing up his magic box and pulling himself together. Before picking up the lid he looked over at his wand. He hadn’t cast magic in a good four years. He hesitantly went to pick it up letting his hand linger over it before dropping it down and picking it up.

“Lumos”, he whispered as the entire room filled with a warm yellow light coating the furniture and walls in warm honey.

Magic. For the first time in years. He felt himself about to cry once again. He dropped his wand back in the box almost instantly. He sat and stared at the photo album on top of the pile of cloth his wand adding to the image. He never realized how much he missed magic. He remembered his favorite book on Magical Creatures was underneath the robes and decided that was a much simpler way to experience magic and pulled it out from the mess. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided it was a good idea. He packed up the box and headed back to his spot on the couch with his book.

After a few hours of re-reading his favorite book from his magic days. He heard tap tap tap tap tap tap at his window for the first time in six years. He slowly looked up and saw an owl sitting at his window. ‘Oh Merlin,’ he thought, ‘this is not what I wanted when I decided to slowly bring magic back. He went to open the window and as soon as he took the parchment from the owl he read:

_Remus Lupin,_

_I would love to catch up over some tea. I will be over soon._

_-Albus Dumbledore_

Remus connected Sirius’ escape to the old bastards’ visit. Dumbledore may have been a “good guy” but he groomed his students into soldiers, feeding them stories of war heroes and the honors that came with it. Remus was 17 when he agreed to fight for Dumbledore, he was still a student and a child. He was naive and young. He wished nothing more than that he could go back and pull his young and wild teenage self from the battle and settle him down in a nice cottage in Wales with Padfoot.

He worried that the reason his old headmaster wanted to speak with him is that he knew of his and Sirius’ past relationship. Maybe Dumbledore thought he was hiding out here, no then the ministry would be on its way, maybe Mad-Eye at the least. Maybe the old man was coming to check up on him? But he didn’t check up on 12 years ago why would he now. He just had a sinking feeling that whatever he wanted was going to change his life.

As he looked up from the letter and made eye contact with the owl. It flew away as quickly as it came. Its grey feathers blending in with stormy clouds above it. He watched the owl fly until it became a speck in the sky. He turned from his window to face the mess of his apartment. He wasn't quite ready to pull out his wand to perform cleaning spells on his apartment so he just did things the muggle way. Slowly doing the dishes as he watched some muggle drama show not daring to touch the news station. He picked up loose papers from his job, swept the floor, and lightly organized his sloppy desk.

After finishing a cleaning of his flat he found himself sitting once again watching the news. Black was no longer on the screen and the lady was saying something about unemployment dropping. He wasn’t paying attention; he was too busy raking his head trying to figure out what soon meant. He’d spent about an hour and a half cleaning and half an hour watching TV-. His thoughts were interrupted with a sharp knock at his door. Sighing, he straightened his shirt and made his way to the door.  
He opened the door and saw a man who he had never hoped to see again.

“Professor. To what do I owe the pleasure?”, he said as he looked at the old man.

“Please Remus, you're plenty old enough to call me Albus.”, his old professor responded.

“Sorry, Albus old habits die hard.”

“Do let me in now Remus we have much to discuss,” Dumbledore responded as he was in a hurry to get this over with.

“Of course professor, let me show you the way.”

He began to lead his old teacher on the short walk from the door to the table. It was a modest home for him, it was maybe 20 feet away from the door.

“Tea?”, he asked.

“Oh, I think I’ll pass today. Another time maybe.”, Dumbledore replied.

“Right, I gather that you’re not here to catch up over tea?”, he found himself asking sarcastically.

“Unfortunately not, tell me Remus what have you been doing for the past 12 years?”

“Oh um,” Remus began. Where to even begin, for four years after James’, Lily and Peter died he worked on magical pest control. Until a nasty boggart on a nastier Halloween had set him off magic 8 years ago. For two years after that, he spent most of his time high or drunk working odd jobs to pay rent. Then he got sober and found a reliable job at a muggle school that gave him flexible hours, “This and that for a few years, then found a job as a muggle teacher’s assistant, with flexible hours to accommodate for my- well you know.”

“Lycanthropy.”, Dumbledore finished for him.

“Uh yes.”

“You know why I’m here Remus.” He stated. It was a solid fact that Dumbledore knew he knew. He found himself nodding at him anyway. “I thought that much. Black has escaped and he’s after Harry.”

Harry. Of course, that’s why I escaped. He was so dense sometimes.

Dumbledore continued, “Given your previous relation-”

“Uh,” he cut off his old teacher, ”I believe you're mistaken, sir. There was never any, well, Sirius and I never-”

“As muggles would say, cut the bullshit Lupin,” Dumbledore responded.

He found himself looking away from Dumbledore's eyes and sheepishly down at the table. He began to trace the lines in the wood with his finger. He was getting tired of faking cordiality with Dumbledore and he could sense dumbledore was too.

“Now I'm not here to blame you for his escape. But given your previous relationship.” Dumbledore stopped for a moment to stare over his half-moon glasses at him before continuing, “I’m going to assume he’ll come to seek you for shelter which is why I am going to need you to come to teach at Hogwarts as a professor.”

“I-. Absolutely not. Professor,”

“Albus.”

“Albus, I would never let him back into my home.”

“Remus,” Dumbledore let his facade fall for a moment. He was speaking to the real Dumbledore for a moment. Not some fake version with a chipper smile and fake good mood. Dumble without his mask. Him in his truest form, “I know what it is like to lose someone you love to the dark side. You need to come to Hogwarts for your safety.”

Remus was silent.

“Also,” Dumbledore said as he slid back into the disguise he put on, “Harry will be starting his third year. I think he would benefit with you around.”

“Harry,” Remus said as the box that kept his magic memories burst open as memories with Harry began to flood his mind.

_“Do you want to hold him?” Lily asked. Her kind green eyes looking up at him._

_“Erm-. I’ve never been much good with kids.” Remus responded._

_“You’ll do fine.” She said as she slid him her child. She was trusting him with such a small life. His shoulders began to tense. He was a werewolf, a dangerous creature who shouldn’t be trusted around children._

_“Relax Moony.” Prongs said, “It’s just a baby.”_

_“Yeah, Moony it's not gonna bite you” A third voice chimed in._

_‘But I could bite it.’ He found himself thinking._

_“You're fine Remus,” Lily said as she watched him._

_It took a while but after that, he was pretty much inseparable from that baby. He always volunteered to babysit or hold him. He loved Harry as if he was his own._

_A memory from a few months later slid into his mind, it was of James and Lily leaving to go on a mission and leaving little Harry behind with him._

_“Promise me you’ll look after him Moony.”_

_“I will.”_

“Ok,” Remus said to Dumbledore, “I will.”


End file.
